


Savnede Dig/Missed You

by beanhappiness



Category: Afdeling Q | Department Q (Movies)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 15:05:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18236528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanhappiness/pseuds/beanhappiness
Summary: I wrote this story both in Danish and English. So, Chapter 1 will be the Danish version and Chapter 2 will be the English one :)The story is based on the fact that my brother and I both think that Carl totally should beat up more assholes when he is drunk. Better descriptions inside the story...





	1. Savnede Dig

**Author's Note:**

> Carl vågner op efter en nat i detention, efter han er blevet anholdt for at have været i slagsmål. Assad virker utrolig irriteret over Carls adfærd, men han er dog alligevel mødt op for at hente ham.  
> Assad vil gerne have en forklaring på hvad der er sket, Carl vil ikke give en. For det kræver at han indrømmer ting han ikke ved om han er klar til.

# Savnede Dig

 

”Her har du ham så. Klar til afhentning.” sagde betjenten der åbnede døren ind til detentionen.

Carl glippede med øjnene, og kæmpede mod tømmermændene. Ikke nok med det, så havde han ondt flere steder i kroppen. Det sved i panden, hvor han kunne mærke at han havde fået en ordentlig hudafskrabning. Hans næse gjorde også ondt, og så vidt han huskede, havde den også fået et ordentligt slag, så han havde fået næseblod. Men det værste var den smerte han følte i venstre side af overkroppen, og den virkede kun til at blive værre.

Gennem alle smerterne prøvede han at fokusere på den lyshårede, yngre, kollega der stod i døren. Han kunne ikke huske betjentens navn, noget med L. Lau? Lauritz? Lasse? Carl kendte ham kun lidt, og vidste at han havde været den der havde anholdt ham aftenen før. Det var nok ikke ham Carl skulle regne med at arbejde sammen med i fremtiden.

”Tak, Lukas.” sagde en velkendt stemme.

Så var det altså noget med L. Kollegaens navn var dog ikke længere det der bekymrede Carl. Men derimod det meget større problem, der var det opgivende ansigtsudtryk, som Assad sendte ham, da han kom hen for at hjælpe Carl op.

”Godmorgen.” mumlede Carl, da Assad hev fat i hans arm for at få ham op.

”Den er langt over middag.” svarede Assad.

Carl kunne høre på Assads tonefald at han ikke var i humør til at diskutere, så Carl holdt sin mund. Han gryntede kun lidt irriteret da han kom på benene, mest for at dække over smerterne han følte i store dele af kroppen.

”Som jeg sagde over telefonen, så har vi et vidne der siger Carl ikke startede slagsmålet. Så der sker nok ikke mere i den sag. Ham den anden har rigeligt af problemer med politiet i forvejen, jeg tror ikke han leder efter flere.” sagde Lukas.

”Godt nok. Men nu håber jeg ikke han var noget problem for dig?” spurgte Assad.

Assad havde et godt tag i Carls arm. Carl var ikke sikker på om det var fordi Assad ville støtte ham, eller sikre sig at han ikke stak af.

”Carl eller ham den anden?” spurgte Lukas med et grin.

”Carl.” svarede Assad i et tonefald der vidnede om at han på ingen måder fandt situationen morsom.

”Nah, han snøvlede en del, og så var han en smule irriteret på grund af slagsmålet. Men han gik med uden at beklage sig.” svarede Lukas.

Han lød ikke vred eller irriteret. Så havde Carl måske alligevel ikke brændt den bro helt, hvilket var overraskende. Der var mange på Politigården der hadede ham for mindre.

Assad nikkede og sendte Carl et blik. ”Det var i det mindste altid noget.” så vendte han igen opmærksomheden mod Lukas. ”Jeg skal nok køre ham hjem. Tak igen, Lukas. Vi ses.”

”Ja, vi ses.” svarede Lukas, da Assad slæbte afsted med Carl.

Carl valgte ikke at svare. I stedet prøvede han at fokusere på at sætte fødderne rigtigt. Han havde godt nok fået meget at drikke i går, eller også havde han fået flere slag end han huskede.

 

Det blev en lang tur ud til bilen. Mest fordi den foregik i anspændt stilhed, hvor Assad hele tiden blev ved med at have sit jerngreb om Carls arm. Mens Carl bare prøvede at følge med uden at vakle for meget. Samtidig med at han prøvede at ignorere smerterne.

Der var et par stykker der stirrede på dem på turen. Men det var længe siden folk var stoppet med at stille spørgsmål om hvad der foregik nede i Afdeling Q. De fleste havde vænnet sig til at der altid var en eller anden mærkelig stemning mellem de to makkere.

Det var først da de var helt henne ved bilen at Assad endelig slap Carls arm, og satte sig ind på førersædet. Carl gned sig lidt på armen, der hvor Assad havde holdt fast, mest for at demonstrere at han ikke var tilfreds med behandlingen.

Så satte han sig ind på passagersædet, og trak solskærmen ned for at inspicere sig selv i det lille spejl. Han havde fået et blåtmærke over højre øje, sammen med hudafskrabningen der så endnu værre ud end han først havde antaget. Han kunne også stadig se rester størknet blod efter at han havde haft blodnæse. Derudover så han bare meget træt ud. Så det var som det plejede at være.

Carl smækkede solskærmen i igen. Hvilket han med det samme forstød, da smækket gav genlyd inde i hans trætte hoved. Han lukkede øjnene i en smertefuld grimasse.

Så åbnede han handskerummet hvor han vidste at Rose plejede at have tyggegummi liggende, og til hans glæde fandt han da også en halv pakke Stimorol. Han tog en, og nød at få en friskere smag i munden.

”Du ser ud af helvedes til.” sagde Assad. Han havde siddet og observeret Carl siden han var steget ind i bilen, uden at sige noget.

”Tak,” svarede Carl og lænede sig tilbage i sædet. ”Det er også godt at se dig igen.”

Assad havde haft fri hele ugen, og Carl havde ikke spurgt hvad hans planer for ferien havde været. I stedet havde han bare gået rundt og været irriteret. Irriteret over at Assad ikke var der, og irriteret på sig selv fordi han kunne blive irriteret over det. Hvilket havde ledt til hans lille bytur.

”Hvad fanden tænkte du på, Carl?” fortsatte Assad. ”Lukas siger ham fyren var næsten dobbelt så stor som dig selv.”

Carl kiggede over på Assad. ”Sagde Lukas også at ham fyren havde et hagekors tatoveret i nakken og var ved at true en ung muslimsk kvinde?”

Assad så en smule anspændt ud. ”Ja, det gjorde han.”

Carl vendte sig om igen. ”Godt, så er der vist ikke mere at diskutere.”

Han lukkede øjnene igen, og prøvede ikke at fokusere på smerterne.

”Men du må alligevel have sagt noget til ham, der har provokeret ham nok til at tæve dig sådan.” blev Assad ved.

”Det kan jeg ikke huske.” svarede Carl stadig med lukkede øjne.

Det passede dog ikke. Han kunne udmærket huske hvad der var sket natten før, han havde bare ikke lyst til at indvie Assad i det.

 

Carl havde først lagt mærke til idioten inde på den bar han selv havde siddet og drukket på. Eller rettere sagt, havde Carl hørt hvordan manden havde råbt op, og sagt diverse grimme skældsord til alle på baren der så bare den mindste smule ud til at være af anden etnisk herkomst end skandinavisk.

Derfor blev manden da også smidt ud, af en dørvagt der kun var en smule større end manden selv. Men politibetjenten i Carl sagde ham at det ikke ville stoppe stodderens chikanering af andre, så Carl bundede sin øl og fulgte efter ham.

Carl sørgede for at holde sig på god afstand af manden, så han ikke skulle opdage noget. Der var ikke så mange mennesker i byen, men det var også sidst på måneden. De fleste ventede sikkert på at den næste løncheck skulle gå ind på kontoen, inden de igen begav sig ud i det københavnske natteliv for at brænde en del af pengene af.

Et langt stykke tid så manden bare ud til at snakke med sig selv, mens hans slingrede hen ad gaden. Så det var lige før at Carl opgav sin udspionering, for i stedet at gå ind på den nærmeste bar for at genoptage sit drikkeri, inden han blev for ædru i den kolde forårsluft. Men så så manden ud til at have fået øje på noget, der fangede hans opmærksomhed. Carl fulgte hans blik, og så en ung kvinde med mørklødet hud og hijab, der var ved at gøre rent i indgangen til en lukket restaurant. Desværre stod fordøren åben, og manden var på vej hen mod hende. Carl fulgte efter.

Manden begyndte først at råbe ad kvinden da han var helt henne ved døråbningen, hvilket tydeligvis gav hende et stort chok. Hun havde gået med øretelefoner, og havde derfor ikke hørt ham komme. Hun prøvede at lukke døren, men han holdt fast i den.

”Hey!” sagde Carl da han kom derhen.

Det var der Carl først opdagede toppen af hagekorstatoveringen, der kun lige stak op over kraven på mandens jakke. Men sådan som han opførte sig, kom det ikke just som den store overraskelse.

Manden vendte sig kort mod Carl, og sendte ham et sløret blik, hvorefter han vendte sig mod kvinden igen. Han anså tydeligvis ikke Carl for en trussel.

”Gå du hellere videre, makker.” sagde manden med ryggen til Carl.

Men det havde Carl dog ingen planer om, i stedet gik han tættere på.

”Kunne jeg ikke lige stille dig et spørgsmål?” spurgte Carl manden.

Nu vendte manden sig helt mod Carl, og slap derved døren. Han gik tættere på Carl.

Carl kiggede forbi manden over på den unge kvinde og sagde: ”Lås du hellere af, jeg har styr på det her.”

Hun holdt døren på klem. Og spurgte så en smule tøvende: ”Er du sikker på jeg ikke skal ringe til politiet?”

Manden sendte hende kort et arrigt blik, og hun lukkede døren helt. Det var en glasdør, så Carl kunne se at hun dog stadig ikke havde låst den.

Carl fumlede lidt i sine jakkelommer, til han fandt sit politiskilt. ”Ingen bekymring, jeg er fra politiet.” sagde han og holdt skiltet frem.

Han havde svært ved at vurdere hvem af de to foran ham der så mest skeptisk ud over denne information. Kvinden låste dog døren. Men så stadig ud til at overveje om hun ikke burde tilkalde hjælp.

”Hør her, _panser_ , jeg er ikke ude på ballade.” sagde manden og sendte Carl et smil der vidnede om det modsatte.

Carl trak på skulderne. ”Det er jeg heller ikke. Men som sagt, lige et spørgsmål. Nu du ser ud til at være i så god kontakt med den muslimske del af befolkningen, så kan du måske hjælpe mig med et problem jeg har i forhold til min ven, Assad.”

Manden foran ham begyndte at se bister ud, sikkert fordi Carl ikke ville lade ham være i fred. Men Carl tænkte at så længe fyren var dér, var han da ikke ude og irritere Københavns borgere. Eller værre, ligefrem være en trussel mod dem.

”Med mindre han skal have et lag tæsk, tror jeg ikke der er noget jeg kan hjælpe dig med.” svarede manden.

Carl begyndte at grine. ”Tro mig, Assad kunne nemt klare sådan en som dig.”

Den kommentar så ud til at irritere manden ekstra meget. Han gik endnu tættere på Carl, og var nu helt oppe i hans ansigt.

”Så skulle du måske ringe efter din lille perker-ven, inden jeg begynder på dig.”

Carl kneb øjnene en smule sammen, og overvejede om det var nu han skulle stoppe med at provokere idioten. Selvom han mest af alt havde han lyst til at slå ham lige i krydderen. Men selv i sit omtågede hoved, kunne han godt se det sikkert ikke ville være smart, taget mandens størrelse i betragtning. Så i stedet besluttede Carl bare at fortsætte med at snakke med ham.

”Ser du, det er her vi begynder at komme ind på hvad mit problem er. For jeg ved ikke hvor Assad er.” Carl slog ud med armene. ”Han holder bare fri. En hel uge! Han fortæller mig ikke hvor han er henne. Og jeg _savner_ ham. Assad er altid så god ved mig, også selvom jeg kan være pisse irriterende.”

”Det har jeg bemærket.” snerrede manden tilbage, og vendte sig for at gå, tydeligvis færdig med at høre på Carl.

Manden kiggede igen over mod restauranten hvor kvinden stadig stod nervøst og holdt øje med dem, sikkert for at sikre sig at det ikke var nødvendigt at tilkalde politiet. Han gik over mod døren og hun bakkede tilbage.

Han spyttede på glasset og råbte: ”Hvad fanden glor du på, kælling?”

Ham var Carl helt sikkert ikke færdig med. Carl gik over mod manden.

”Hey,” sagde Carl og rørte ved hans arm for at få hans opmærksomhed igen.

”Skrid.” sagde manden og skubbede hårdt til Carl, så han vaklede bagud.

Carl kunne se at kvinden nu stod med sin mobil mod øret. Så ville der nok ikke gå så længe inden nogle af hans kollegaer dukkede op. Men nu var Carl ved at være godt irriteret med idioten.

”Men jeg fik aldrig sagt hvad mit problem med Assad var!” sagde Carl overdramatisk, for at få mandens opmærksomhed. ”Ser du, det er gået op for mig, at grunden til at jeg savner ham sådan er fordi jeg er forelsket i ham. Så hvordan skal jeg fortælle ham det? At jeg er helt forgabt i hans store brune øjne. Og at jeg bare ville ønske at han ville hviske søde ting i mit øre mens han –”

”Nu holder du kraftedeme din kæft!” råbte manden og slog ud efter Carl, men nåede ikke at ramme fordi Carl nåede at flytte sig.

Til gengæld fik Carl placeret en knytnæve lige i midten af stodderens ansigt. Men det så kun ud til at tirre ham endnu mere. Hvilket førte til at han slog igen, og denne gang ramte han, så Carl kunne mærke hvordan blodet begyndte at løbe fra næsen. Det gjorde ondt ad helvede til, men han nåede at få et par slag mere ind, inden manden fik slået ham sådan at han faldt.

Carl fik med lidt besvær vendt sig om på maven. Men før han fik muligheden for at rejse sig, mærkede han det første spark i siden. Hvilket medførte at han fik skrabet panden mod asfalten.

”Fucking homo-panser,” råbte manden mens han sparkede Carl igen. ”Hvis jeg nogensinde ser dig og din lille perker-ven, så –”

Men han nåede ikke at afslutte sine trusler, eller sparke Carl igen, for Carl fik rullet om på siden. Så han bare fik sparket ud i luften. Hvilket slog ham så meget ud af balance at Carl kunne nå at komme op, og nærmest kaste sig mod ham, så de begge faldt om.

Det var sådan de begge to lå på jorden og næsten prøvede at slå hinanden ihjel da to betjente kom og skilte dem ad.

 

”Jamen, så ses vi på mandag.” sagde Carl, da Assad parkerede ude foran Carls hus.

Carl var taknemlig for at det kun var lørdag, så burde han kunne nå at komme nogenlunde ovenpå igen inden mandag. Han burde i hvert fald kunne nå at sove rusen helt ud.

Carl var halvt ude af døren, da han hørte Assad slukke motoren. Carl vendte sig om og så spørgende på ham.

”Jeg kommer ind og tjekker de skrammer, ellers går du bare direkte i seng.” sagde Assad mens han åbnede sin sikkerhedssele.

Carl himlede med øjnene, mens han steg ud af bilen. Men han kom ikke med nogen indvendinger. I stedet fortsatte han med at prøve at skjule smerterne i siden fra Assad, men det blev svære og svære ikke at reagere på dem.

Da han gik forbi skraldespanden, spyttede han demonstrativt tyggegummiet ned i den. Irriterende overbeskyttende Assad.

 

Da de kom ind, stillede Carl direkte efter sofaen, fordi han var så træt og bare gerne ville sidde ned. Men da han satte sig, kunne han ikke undgå at lave en grimasse og tage sig til siden. Noget Assad ikke kunne undgå at lægge mærke til.

”Carl, er du okay?” spurgte han og lød bekymret. Alle tegn på irritation var væk.

”Ja, jeg har det strålende.” sagde Carl mellem sammenbidte tænder. ”Jeg skal bare ligge lidt ned.”

Med lidt besvær fik han lagt sig ned på ryggen, og kiggede så over på Assad. Han så stadig bekymret ud.

”Har du fået dårlig samvittighed over at du skældte mig sådan ud tidligere?” spurgte Carl.

Assad svarede ikke, men lagde sig bare på knæ ved siden af sofaen. Carl kiggede på ham med en panderynken, hvad havde han gang i?

”Lad mig lige se.” sagde Assad, og nikkede mod der hvor Carl holdt sin hånd.

”Hvad? Nej! Det er ingenting, jeg har sikkert bare sovet dårligt på den lortebriks de kalder en seng nede i detentionen.”

”Carl!” sagde Assad bestemt.

”Okay, fint!” svarede Carl.

Han begyndte at knappe sin skjorte op, og kunne mærke at han blev varm i kinderne. Der var noget mærkeligt ved sådan at tage tøjet af med Assad lige ved siden af. De var alt for tæt på hinanden.

Da han havde fået åbnet den sidste knap, sukkede han en smule. Han havde ikke selv set hvordan han så ud, men ud fra smerterne at dømme, kunne det ikke være godt. Og han kendte Assad godt nok til at vide at han sikkert ikke ville tage let på det.

”Carl, for helvede.” mumlede Assad da han fik set området på Carls side der hvor han var blevet sparket.

Carl kiggede ned og kunne se at han var helt gul og blå på et stort område. Den skide nynazist havde virkelig fået godt ramt på ham.

Assad lagde forsigtigt et par af sine fingre på grænsen af de forslåede områder, og trykkede lidt.

”Av, for helvede!” sagde Carl da det sendte et stik af smerte igennem ham.

”Undskyld.” skyndte Assad sig at sige, og kiggede op på Carl. ”Jeg prøver bare at tjekke at du ikke har brækket noget, okay? Eller hvis du har punkteret en lunge, kan det være virkelig farligt.”

Carl ville pointere at Assad hverken var læge eller sygeplejerske. Bare et eller andet der ville få ham til at stoppe med at trykke på de ømme områder af Carls krop. Men når han så ind i Assads øjne, kunne han ikke få sig selv til det. Assad var så oprigtigt bekymret for ham, at Carl ikke kunne få sig selv til andet end bare at nikke.

Så Assad fik lov at fortsætte med sin undersøgelse, mens Carl stirrede op i loftet og lavede grimasser i stilhed. I stedet for at fokusere på at det gjorde ondt, prøvede han at fokusere på det faktum at Assad rørte ved ham med så blide berøringer, også selvom det kun var for at tjekke hans ømme punkter.

”Jeg tror ikke du er kommet alvorligt til skade. Men måske skulle vi alligevel lige køre dig på skadestuen. Bare for at være på den sikre side.” sagde Assad. Han havde stadig sin hånd hvilende lige over Carls hofte, uden for de blåmærker hvor det ikke gjorde ondt.

”Nej, jeg tager dit ord for det.” svarede Carl og kiggede hen på Assad, der stadig ikke havde gjort tegn til at rejse sig. Eller fjerne sin hånd.

Et øjeblik kiggede de bare på hinanden, inden Assad så fjernede sin hånd i en hurtig bevægelse, som om det lige pludselig var gået op for ham hvad han havde lavet. Han rejste sig op.

”Nå, men jeg skulle jo også få renset det sår, du har i panden.” sagde Assad og kløede sig i nakken, han virkede en smule fraværende.

”Øhm, ja. Der er en førstehjælpskasse i badeværelset.” sagde Carl.

Assad nikkede, og var hurtigt væk fra stuen.

Carl vendte igen ansigtet mod loftet. I hans tømmermænd fyldte hoved prøvede han at bearbejde hvad der lige var sket. Men han havde svært ved at aflæse situationen.

Der gik lidt tid før Assad kom tilbage, men da han kom, havde han førstehjælpskassen med. Han lagde sig igen på knæ ved siden af sofaen. Da han begyndte at rense såret i Carls pande, holdt Carl sin mund, selvom det sved ad helvede til.

”Carl, vend lige ansigtet mod mig, så kan jeg nemmere komme til.” sagde Assad og lagde sin hånd på Carls kind for at vende hans hoved. Han rynkede på brynene. ”Du er meget varm, er du okay?”

”Jeg har det fint.” svarede Carl, i et, efter hans egen mening, meget neutralt tonefald.

Han var udmærket godt selv klar over hvor meget hans kinder brændte, men han vidste også at det ikke havde noget med sygdom at gøre. Og at han nu igen lå ansigt til ansigt med Assad, med så lidt afstand imellem dem, gjorde det ikke bedre.

”Er du sikker på du ikke vil snakke om hvad der skete i går?” spurgte Assad, mens han fortsatte med at rense Carls sår.

”Der er ikke så meget at snakke om.” svarede Carl. Han sank en klump.

Han overvejede hvad han skulle gøre nu. Skulle han blive ved med at fortælle den løgn eller skulle han gå til bekendelse og håbe på det bedste? Skulle han håbe på at han havde læst situationen lige før rigtigt, og at det der var sket, ikke var blevet farvet af hans tømmermænd fyldte hjerne.

”Jeg sagde bare til ham stodderen, at jeg har den her rigtig gode muslimske ven, der altid er så god ved mig og altid passer på mig.” sagde Carl så.

Assad smilede lidt, og lukkede førstehjælpskassen, da han var færdig med at rense Carls sår.

”Og at jeg havde forelsket mig helt håbløst i ham.” fortsatte Carl.

Han kunne mærke hvordan hans hjerte begyndte at banke hurtigere så snart ordene havde forladt hans mund.

Assad fik store øjne, og kiggede overrasket på Carl. Carl vidste ikke hvad han skulle gøre, han havde håbet på en hurtig reaktion, af en eller anden art, ligegyldigt hvilket udfald der ville komme. Men nu virkede det som om at sekunderne trak ud i en evighed. Han overvejede om han skulle prøve at trække i land. Sige at det selvfølgelig kun var noget han havde sagt fordi han var fuld.

”Assad, jeg –”

Carl blev afbrudt da Assad lænede sig frem og kyssede ham. Nu var det Carls tur til at blive overrasket, men han fattede sig hurtigt og gengældte kysset. Han lagde sin ene hånd om Assads nakke og trak ham tættere på. Assad lod igen sin hånd glide over Carls hofte mod hans mave. Carl sukkede veltilfreds ind i kysset, og ville ønske at han ikke havde så skide ondt i hele kroppen så han havde kunne hive Assad op i sofaen til sig.

Så brød Assad kysset, og rykkede lidt tilbage, så Carl gav slip. Igen så Assad ud til at være kommet i tanke om hvad det egentlig var han lavede. Han kiggede undersøgende på Carl. Så rystede han på hovedet.

”Du er ikke rigtig klog, Carl.”

Carl rynkede på brynene. En smule forvirret. ”Siger manden der lige har kysset mig.”

Assad kiggede lidt på ham igen, men svarede ikke. Så rejste han sig, og gik.

”Assad?” kaldte Carl, med en smule panik i stemmen.

Hvad foregik der?

Carl fik med en smule besvær sat sig op. Det gjorde ondt af helvedes til, men han blev nødt til at finde ud af hvor Assad var gået hen. Carl talte til tre inde i hovedet, og rejste sig så op. Hvilket resulterede i endnu et smertehelvede.

 

Han fandt Assad ude i køkkenet, hvor han stod med ryggen til Carl. Han havde håndfladerne solidt plantet på bordpladen, som om han var bange for at vælte hvis han gav slip.

”Assad?” spurgte Carl forsigtigt.

”Hvad fanden er der galt med dig, Carl?” spurgte Assad og vente sig om mod ham.

Carl kiggede bare på ham. Han vidste godt at han lignede noget katten havde slæbt med ind, og at han havde taget nogle tvivlsomme valg aftenen før. Men derfor forstod han alligevel ikke helt hvad Assad snakkede om. Det var trods alt Assad der havde kysset _ham_ , så en eller anden form for gengældelse af følelser måtte han jo have.

”Mange ting. Du bliver simpelthen nødt til at være mere specifik.” svarede Carl.

Assad så både opgivende og irriteret ud. Hvilket fik Carl til at fortryde sit lidt flabede svar.

”Jeg er væk en hel uge, hvor du ikke kontakter mig på nogen måde. Og så smider du det her i hovedet på mig?” sagde Assad.

Carl ville komme med et modsvar. Men han nåede ikke at finde på noget, inden Assad fortsatte:

”For slet ikke at tale om at jeg bliver ringet op af Lukas, tidligt i morges, og får at vide at han har arresteret dig? Og at du havde sagt at han bare kunne ringe til mig, fordi jeg nok skulle komme og hente dig.”

Den del med at han havde sagt at Lukas bare kunne ringe til Assad kunne Carl ikke rigtigt huske, det måtte være noget hans hjerne havde valgt at glemme. Men det gjorde det ikke mindre pinligt. Nu kunne han godt se hvad det var Assad mente. Han havde ikke ligefrem opført sig som om at Assad virkelig betød så meget for ham som han gjorde.

”Ja, tak for det forresten.” mumlede Carl og kiggede væk.

”Ja, og det er det værste ved det. At jeg var dum nok til faktisk at gøre det.” sagde Assad og så endnu mere irriteret ud, men nok mest over sig selv. ”Ved du hvorfor jeg holdt fri i en uge, Carl?”

Carl kiggede igen på ham, og rystede på hovedet. En del af ham frygtede at Assad ville sige at det var på grund af ham. En tanke der havde strejfet ham flere gange i løbet af ugen.

”Fordi jeg aldrig tager feriedage. Jeg holder aldrig fri. Jeg møder altid op, hver dag. Fordi hver dag siger jeg til mig selv: ’Carl har brug for mig.’ Men hver dag når jeg tager hjem, tænker jeg at jeg har taget fejl. Du har ikke rigtigt brug for mig.” sagde Assad, tydeligvis påvirket af situationen. ”Og da jeg så indså at det er fordi at _jeg_ ikke kan undvære dig, blev jeg simpelthen nødt til at tage en pause.”

”Men jeg _kan_ ikke undvære dig, det troede jeg at jeg havde gjort klart.” sagde Carl.

”Men hvorfor står du så og fortæller en eller anden nynazist at du er forelsket i mig, i stedet for at komme og besøge mig, og rent faktisk vise at du kan lide mig?!”

Assad virkede desperat efter svar. Hvilket Carl ikke kunne bebrejde ham. Han kunne godt se at hans opførelse måtte virke forvirrende for Assad.

”Jeg gjorde det fordi jeg savnede dig.” sagde Carl.

Ikke overraskende fik det ikke Assad til at se mindre forvirret eller irriteret ud.

”Så kunne du have ringet til mig.” sagde han.

”Jeg var bange for at du havde taget ferie, fordi det var mig du havde brug for en pause fra. Og det lyder som om at det ikke var helt forkert.” sagde Carl og trak kort på smilebåndet.

Assad så ud til at ville sige noget, men nu var Carl kommet i gang med at fortælle sandheden, så han fortsatte:

”Hvilket jeg ikke kunne bebrejde dig. Så jeg var irriteret på mig selv. Men jeg savnede dig også. Så jeg gik ud og drak, fordi jeg ikke vidste hvordan jeg ellers skulle håndtere det.”

Irritationen så langsomt ud til at forsvinde fra Assads ansigt. Carl så det som et godt tegn, og tog chancen for at bevæge sig lidt tættere på.

”Jeg savner dig konstant, når vi ikke er sammen. I weekenderne. Når jeg tager hjem fra arbejde. Hvis jeg kunne bestemme, ville jeg tilbringe stort set al min tid sammen med dig.” Carl trak en smule på skulderne. ”Men jeg ved også at jeg kan være pisse irriterende, så at du overhovedet bruger så meget af din tid til hverdag med mig, virker til at være mere end jeg fortjener.”

Assad sagde stadig ikke noget. Han kiggede bare på Carl. Men hans kropssprog var helt anderledes nu. Han var ikke længere vred, ikke længere irriteret. Han virkede afslappet og åben. Derfor gik Carl tættere på ham, til han var inde i hans personlige sfære.

”Men det betyder ikke at jeg ikke stadig savner dig, hver gang jeg er alene.” hviskede Carl, da han nu igen var helt tæt på Assads ansigt. Han lagde sine arme om hans liv og bevægede sit ansigt tættere på ham, så han kunne hviske i hans øre: ”Det værste er når jeg savner dig, på tidspunkter hvor jeg slet ikke har nogen ret til at have dig. Som når jeg ligger alene i min seng, og ville ønske at du lå ved siden af mig. Eller når jeg rør ved mig selv, og ville ønske det var dig der rørte mig.”

Assads vejrtrækning blev tungere. Carl smilede. Han kyssede Assad på halsen.

”Hver dag der går hvor jeg ikke ser dig, savner jeg dig.” fortsatte Carl. Han kyssede Assad igen. ”Undskyld jeg ikke har fortalt dig det noget før.”

Han lagde sit hoved på Assads skulder, og blev bare stående sådan med armene om ham. Så mærkede han Assad ligge sin ene arm om livet på ham, og forsigtigt glide den anden op langs hans ryg i en bevægelse der fik hele Carls trætte krop til at sitre. Assad fortsatte til hans hånd lå på hans nakke. Hvor Assad kørte sin tommelfinger i beroligende bevægelser, der fik Carl til at føle at han kunne falde i søvn lige der på stedet.

De stod sådan et øjeblik, inden Carl kunne mærke at han blev nødt til at flytte sig, hvis han virkelig ikke skulle falde rigtigt i søvn.

”Jeg tror jeg bliver nødt til at gå op og ligge mig lidt.” sagde Carl.

Det irriterede ham at indrømme. For han havde ikke lyst til at Assad skulle tage hjem. Særligt ikke nu, når de havde delt dette øjeblik. Mest havde han lyst til at fortsætte. Men hele hans krop skreg på søvn og fred.

”Det er nok en god ide.” sagde Assad og nikkede. ”Faktisk, er jeg også selv ret træt, jeg mener, jeg blev jo som sagt vækket ret tidligt i morges. Så jeg kunne faktisk også godt trænge til en lur.”

Carl kiggede på ham, for at se om han mente det som Carl troede at han gjorde. Hans smil indikerede i hvert fald at det var tilfældet. Det var en leg Carl kunne være med på.

”Nå ja, det er jo rigtigt nok. Hvilket jo er min skyld, så jeg føler ikke at jeg kan være andet bekendt end at tilbyde at du kan sove her, hvis du har lyst.”

Assad nikkede. ”Er din sofa god at sove på?”

”Bestemt. Men min seng er meget bedre.”

De kiggede på hinanden med smil der blev til grin.

”Okay, på en betingelse.” sagde Assad.

”Hvad?”

”Du tager et bad først, det trænger du virkelig til.” sagde Assad og prøvede ikke at komme til at grine igen.

Carl nikkede. Han kunne ikke benægte at han trængte til et ordentligt bad. Kombinationen af druktur, slagsmål og en nat i detentionen havde sat sine spor.

”Fair nok. Vil du også med der?” jokede han.

Assad kiggede lidt på ham, og lavede så et skuldertræk. ”Okay.”

Han smilede da han så Carls overraskede ansigtsudtryk. For det var mildest talt ikke det svar Carl havde forventet. Men han havde absolut ingen intentioner om at beklage sig. 

 

Det endte med at Assad blev der resten af weekenden. Så de fulgtes på arbejde mandag morgen, og blev mødt af en over glad Rose. Der med det samme hun så dem, kom hen for at give Assad et langt kram.

”Assad, hvor er det godt at have dig tilbage!”

Carl følte sig måske en lille smule overset. Men på den anden side havde han ikke det samme forhold til Rose som Assad havde, og han havde heller ikke været væk en uge. Dog havde det da været rart med et ’godmorgen.’

Assad kunne ikke lade være med at grine. ”Du så mig da i onsdags.”

Carl kunne mærke hvordan han blev en smule irriteret på sig selv. Rose havde taget tid til at besøge Assad i løbet af sidste uge, men Carl havde ikke selv gjort noget. Hvis ikke det havde været fordi han var vågnet op den morgen med Assads arm rundt om sig, fik hvisket et kærligt ’godmorgen’ efterfulgt af blide kys i nakken, havde han sikkert forbandet sig selv langt væk for at være sådan en idiot. Men alting var trods alt blevet bedre den weekend, så i stedet lovede han bare sig selv at gøre det bedre i fremtiden.  
Rose slap Assad igen. ”Ja, men du efterlod mig alligevel alene, en hel uge, med det sure spektakel der.” Hun nikkede over mod Carl. Så smilede hun skævt til Assad. ”Hvis jeg ikke vidste bedre, ville jeg sige at han havde gået og savnet dig.”

”Virkelig?” sagde Assad med sarkastisk overraskelse, og kiggede over på Carl. ”Det kan jeg ikke tro.”

”Måske savnede jeg bare at der var nogen der hjalp mig med alt det arbejde vi har for.” svarede Carl.

Mest for at irriteret Rose, bare fordi hun havde kommenteret på at han tydeligvis havde savnet Assad. For havde det ikke været for alt det der var sket i weekenden, ville det sikkert have gjort ham meget pinligt berørt.

Som forventet sendte Rose ham da også et fornærmet blik. Eftersom hun havde arbejdet lige så meget den sidste uge, som hun altid gjorde. Hun skulle tydeligvis også til at komme med et modsvar, da hun fik øje på hvordan Carl så ud i ansigtet. Selvom der var gået et par dage nu, så såret han havde i panden ikke bedre ud. Tværtimod var det blåmærke kun blevet tydeligere.

”Hold da kæft, Carl.” sagde hun ”Jeg havde godt hørt du havde været oppe og slås her i weekenden, men jeg vidste ikke det var gået så slemt for sig. Er du okay?”

Skønt. Så det var altså en historie der sikkert havde nået hele Politigården rundt nu. Carl Mørck, fuld i et slagsmål og en nat i detentionen. Det ville han sikkert komme til at høre for længe.

Men i det mindste lød det da på Roses toneleje til at hun var oprigtigt bekymret for om han havde det godt.

”Jeg har det fint, Rose.” sagde han. ”Der skete ikke noget.”

Assad sendte ham et opgivende blik. ”Carl har fået et ribbensbrud.”

Carl himlede med øjnene. Det var ikke noget han havde tænkt sig at indvie Rose i, men Assad var bange for at Carl skulle overbelaste sig selv. Så han ville sikkert sikre sig at Rose var med til at holde øje med ham.

At Carl faktisk var kommet mere til skade end først antaget, havde de fundet ud af da Assad, efter en længere diskussion lørdag eftermiddag, endelig havde fået ham overtalt til at tage til lægen. Efter at smerterne kun var blevet værre. Så igen havde Assad været bange for at det kunne være en punkteret lunge. Hvilket det heldigvis ikke var. Så han kunne nøjes med smertestillende, og havde fået at vide at smerterne med stor sandsynlighed ville blive værre de næste par dage, inden det begyndte at blive bedre igen. Så han skulle gerne tage det med ro.

”Det er ikke noget alvorligt. Jeg har det _fint_.” fastholdt Carl.

”Aha,” sagde Rose. ”Så går jeg ikke ud fra det er _derfor_ Assad har sovet hjemme hos dig hele weekenden? Gad vide hvilken grund der så kunne være til det…”

Deres chokerede ansigter, fik Rose til veltilfreds at ligge armene over kors og smile triumferende. Som om hun lige havde løst en af deres sager helt alene.

”Hvad, øhm, hvad får dig overhovedet til at tro at han har det?” spurgte Carl og prøvede ikke at lyde påvirket.

Han kunne med det samme selv høre at han fejlede fuldstændigt. Han afslørede dem sikkert kun endnu mere.

Rose kiggede på ham med hævede øjenbryn, som om at svaret var indlysende.

”Et,” sagde hun og begyndte at tælle på fingrene. ”I møder ind sammen. To, I stinker begge to af Carls billige shampoo. Og tre, det der er ikke Assads trøje.” sluttede hun og pegede på Assad.

Hvad fanden var hun? Livsstilsekspert eller Sherlock Holmes? Ja, så Carl havde lånt Assad noget tøj, fordi han ikke havde været hjemme ved sig selv hele weekenden. Men der var da ingen af dem der havde forventet at det var noget Rose, eller nogen anden for den sags skyld, ville bide mærke i.

Carl vidste ikke hvad han skulle sige, og på den rungende tavshed der kom fra Assad, virkede det heller ikke til at han vidste hvad han skulle sige.

Så Rose fortsatte: ”Og helt ærligt, jeg har gået op og ned ad jer i årevis. Det var kun et spørgsmål om tid. Nogle gange har I jo fandeme været ligesom børnehavebørn der ikke har vidst hvordan I skulle håndtere at I kunne lide hinanden.”

Der var stadig ikke nogen af de to mænd der vidste hvad de skulle sige. Carl havde aldrig troet at han var så åbenlys. Han havde altid prøvet på det modsatte.

”Bare rolig,” sagde Rose så, eftersom at de stadig ikke sagde noget. ”Jeg har ikke tænkt mig at sige det til nogen. Jeg syntes bare I skulle vide at det var ret tydeligt, og vi er trods alt på en politistation, så det kunne være at der var andre der lagde to og to sammen.”

Carl fnyste. ”Det tror jeg ikke vi behøver være bange for.”

Han havde ikke så meget til overs for de fleste af deres kollegaers efterforskningsevner.

”Det tror jeg altså heller ikke, Rose.” sagde Assad så, der endelig også så ud til at have genvundet talens brug. ”Jeg mener, jeg tror ikke der er nogen andre på Gården der har lige så godt styr på hverken mit eller Carls tøj, som du tilsyneladende har.”

”Men imponerende deduktion, Rose.” sagde Carl og smilede kort.

Der virkede ikke til at være nogen grund til at skjule sandheden fra hende, men det havde nu heller ikke på noget tidspunkt været deres plan. De havde bare ikke forventet at hun selv ville opdage det så hurtigt.

Rose smilede stort til ham. ”Åh, det er sgu meget sødt. Hvor er jeg glad på jeres vegne.”

Hun hev dem begge to ind til et kram, med sig selv i midten. Hun lagde sit hoved på deres skuldre og krammede til. Carl bed sig i læben for ikke at sige noget, da hans ømme krop blev mast ind mod Roses.

”Tak, Rose.” sagde Assad. ”Men jeg tror du masser Carls dårlige side.”

”Åh, undskyld!” sagde Rose og gav hurtigt slip på dem begge to.

”Det okay.” sagde Carl mellem sammenbidte tænder.

Han vidste Rose kun mente det godt, og han værdsatte hendes glæde på deres vegne. Så mærkede han at Assad lagde en hånd på hans lænd, og lavede nogle beroligende bevægelser.

”Sæt dig ned, og slap af, okay?” sagde Assad blidt.

Han nikkede, men bevægede sig ikke ud af stedet fordi han ikke havde lyst til at Assad skulle give slip. Ud af øjenkrogen kunne han se Roses smil vokse sig større. Han sendte hende et blik.

”Okay, okay. Jeg skal nok lade jer få noget fred.” sagde hun og prøvede ikke at grine, mens hun gik ind til sig selv. Hun lukkede endda døren, noget hun ellers kun gjorde hvis hende og Carl var kommet op og skændes.

Carl rystede lidt på hovedet mens han endelig gik hen og satte sig. Det gjorde også ondt, men han var blevet god til ikke at vise det.

”Hun mener det godt.” sagde Assad da han selv satte sig på sin egen plads.

”Det ved jeg godt.” han kiggede over mod Assad og smilte.

Assad gengældte smilet med en panderynken. ”Hvad?”

”Det er godt at have dig tilbage.” sagde han med den største oprigtighed og en ny form for ro i sindet.

Assads smil blev større. ”Næste gang holder vi ferie sammen.”

Carl nikkede. Han så allerede frem til det.

 

 


	2. Missed You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Carl wakes up after a night in detention, after being arrested for having been in a fight. Assad seems incredibly annoyed at Carl's behavior, but he still shows up to pick Carl up.  
> Assad wants an explanation of what has happened, Carl will not give one. Because it requires him to admit things he does not know if he is ready to yet.
> 
> I apologize for all the grammar and spelling mistakes. English is not my first language, and I can't remember when the last time was that I wrote in English. Hope you can enjoy my stupid story anyway :)

# Missed You

 

“Here he is. Ready for pickup.” Said the officer who opened the door to the detention cell.

Carl blinked and tried to fight his massive hangover. But it was nothing compared to the pain he felt in most of his body. He had gotten a bad abrasion on his forehead, that hurt a lot. So did his nose. As far as he remembered, it had gotten a hard punch, so he had gotten a nosebleed. But worst of all was the pain he felt on the left side of his upper body, and that only seemed to get more intense.

He tried to ignore the pain, and focus on the blond, younger, colleague who was standing in the doorway. Carl could not remember the officer’s name. Something with an L. Lau? Lauritz? Lasse? Carl only knew the guy a bit and knew that it had been him who had arrested him the night before. Carl did not expect to ever work with him in the future.

“Thanks, Lukas.” A familiar voice said.

It was something with an L then. The name of his colleague was no longer what worried Carl though. No, a much bigger problem now was the disappointed and tired look Assad gave him when he walked over to help Carl get up.

“’Morning.” Carl mumbled when Assad grabbed hold of his arm to get him up.

“It’s far past noon.” Assad replied.

Carl could hear by Assad’s tone of voice, that he was not in the mood to argue, so Carl kept his mouth shut. He only grumbled a bit annoyed when he got up on his feet, mostly to hide the pain he felt in most parts of his body.

“As I said on the phone, do we have a witness who says that Carl wasn’t the one who started the fight. So, I don’t think we’re gonna hear any more of that case. The other guy has plenty of problems with the police as it is, I don’t think he’s looking for anymore.” Lukas said.

“Well, that’s good. But I don’t hope he was too much of a problem for you?” Assad asked.

Assad had a tight grip around Carl’s arm. Carl was not sure if Assad wanted to give him support, or just make sure that he would not run away.

“Carl or the other guy?” Lukas grinned.

“Carl.” Assad said in a tone that indicated that he did not find the situation funny at all.

“Nah, he talked some nonsense and was a bit cranky because of the fight. But he went along without complaining.” Lukas said.

He did not sound angry or annoyed. So maybe Carl had not burned that bridge entirely, which was surprising. A lot of people at the station hated him for far less.

Assad nodded and sent Carl a look. “Well, at least that’s something.” Then he turned his attention towards Lukas again. “I’ll drive him home. Thanks again, Lukas. See you later.”

“Yeah, see you guys later.” Lukas replied when Assad dragged Carl after him out of the room.

Carl did not answer. He just tried to focus on putting his feet right every time he took another step. Either had he gotten really drunk the night before, or he had taken more punches than he remembered.

The walk to the car seemed very long. Mostly because of the tense silence between them, and not at any point did Assad let go of his tight grip on Carl’s arm. Meanwhile, was Carl just trying to keep up, without tripping over his own feet, while he tried to ignore the pain.

A few people stared at them. But it had been a long time since people had stopped asking questions about what went on down in Department Q. Most of the other people at the station were used to that there always was an odd atmosphere between the two partners.

It was not before they reached the car, that Assad let go of Carl’s arm. He then climbed into the driver’s seat. Carl rubbed his arm, where Assad had held him in his iron grip, mostly to demonstrate that he was not happy with the treatment.

Then he climbed into the front passenger seat and pulled down the sun visor, so he could inspect himself in the little mirror. He had gotten a bad bruise over his right eye along with the abrasion, that looked even worse than he first had thought. He could also see some dried blood from his nosebleed. Besides that, he just looked tired, so nothing new there.

Carl slammed the sun visor shot and immediately regret it when the noise echoed in his tired head. He closed his eyes and made a painful grimace.

Then he opened the glovebox because he knew Rose used to keep some gum in there. And to his joy, he did find half a pack of mint flavored gum. He took a piece and enjoyed the fresh taste in his mouth.

“You look like shit.” Assad said. He had been observing Carl since he had entered the car, without saying anything.

“Thanks,” Carl answered and leaned back in the seat “It’s also nice to see you again.”

Assad had taken the last week off, and Carl had not asked what his plans for the vacation had been. Instead, he had just spent the entire time being annoyed. Annoyed that Assad was not there and annoyed with himself that that could annoy him. Which had led to his bender.

“What the hell were you thinking, Carl?” Assad continued. “Lukas said that the guy was almost twice as big as yourself.”

Carl looked over at Assad. “Did Lukas also mention that the guy had a swastika tattoo on the back of his neck, and was threatening a young Muslim woman?”

Assad looked a bit tense. “Yes, he did.”

Carl turned around again. “Well, I guess that’s the end of the discussion then.”

He closed his eyes and tried not to focus on the pain.

“But you have had to have said something to him, that provoked him enough to beat you up like that.” Assad continued.

“I can’t remember.” Carl said, still with his eyes closed.

That was not true though. He clearly remembered what had happened the night before, he just did not want to tell Assad about it.

 

Carl had first spotted the idiot at the bar where he himself had been drinking for most of the night. Or rather, Carl had heard how the man had been yelling and said all sorts of nasty things to anybody at the bar who looked just the slightest to be of another ethnicity than Scandinavian.

So, it was no surprise when the man was kicked out of the bar, by a bodyguard who was only slightly bigger than the man himself. But the policeman in Carl told him, that that would not stop the asshole from harassing other people. So, Carl finished his beer and followed the guy.

Carl made sure to keep a good distance to the man, so he would not notice him. The streets were pretty empty, but it was also the last weekend of the month. A lot of people were probably waiting for a new paycheck to check in on their bank account before they went for a night out.

For a long time, it looked like the man was just mumbling to himself, while he drunkenly walked down the street. Carl almost gave up on spying on the man and considered if he should just find the nearest bar and resume his drinking before he got to sober in the chilling spring night air. But then it seemed like something had caught the man’s attention. Carl followed his gaze and saw a young woman with dark skin and a hijab, who was cleaning the entrance to a closed restaurant. Unfortunately, was the front door still open, and the man was on his way over to her. Carl followed.

When the guy was close to the entrance door, he started yelling at the woman. Which clearly shocked her, she had been listening to music on her earbuds and had therefore not heard him coming. She tried to close the door, but he had a hard grip on it.

“Hey!” Carl said when he came over.

That was when Carl first noticed the swastika tattoo, that was just barely visible over the man’s jacket collar. But with his behavior, was it not very surprising.

The man briefly turned around to look at Carl, and send him a tired and drunken look, before he turned his attention back to the woman. He clearly did not see Carl as a threat.

“Just keep walking, buddy.” He said with his back still turned to Carl.

But Carl had no plans of doing so. Instead, he stepped closer to the man.

“Can I ask you a question?” Carl asked the man.

The man turned around to look at Carl again, and therefore let go of the door. He took a step closer to Carl.

Carl looked past him and over at the young woman and said: “You can just lock the door now, I got this.”

She held the door ajar. And then asked a bit nervously: “Are you sure I shouldn’t call the police instead?”

The man sent her an angry look, and she closed the door completely. It was a glass door, so Carl could see that she still had not locked it.

Carl fumbled a bit with his coat pockets before he found his badge. “No worries, I’m from the police.” He said and showed them his badge.

It was hard to tell who of the two people in front of him, who seemed most skeptic about this information. But at least the woman locked the door. She still seemed to consider if she should call for help though.

“Listen, _officer_ , I’m not looking for trouble.” The man said, with a smile that indicated the complete opposite.

Carl shrugged. “Neither am I. But, as I said before, I just got a question for you. Since you seem to be in such good contact with the Muslim part of the population, I wondered if you could help me with something considering my friend, Assad.”

The man in front of him starred at him with a grim face, he was clearly getting really annoyed about the fact that Carl would not leave him alone. But Carl figured that if he was there, at least the guy would not be walking around annoying the people of Copenhagen. Or worse, be a straight up danger to them.

“Unless you want me to beat him up, I don’t think I can help you.” The man answered.

Carl began to laugh. “Trust me, Assad could easily take a guy like you out.”

That comment seemed to annoy the man even further. He approached Carl even further, so he now was right up in his face.

“Then maybe you should call your little Paki-friend before I start on you.”

Carl narrowed his eyes and considered if it was now that he should stop provoking the asshole. Although what he really wanted to do was punch him right in the face. But even in his hazy mind could he see that that would be a bad idea, considering the man’s size. So instead Carl decided to just keep talking to him.

“You see, this is where my problem begins. Because I don’t know where Assad is.” Carl threw his hands up. “He just takes a week off. An entire week! Doesn’t tell me what his plans are. And I _miss_ him. Assad is always so good to me, even though I can be really annoying.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that.” The man snarled. He turned around to walk away, clearly done with listening to Carl.

The man looked over at the restaurant again, where the woman was still nervously keeping an eye on them, probably to make sure that it would not be necessary to call the police after all. He walked over to the door, and she took a few steps back.

He spat on the glass and yelled: “What the hell are you looking at, bitch?”

Carl was definitely not done with him yet. He walked over to the man.

“Hey,” Carl said and put a hand on his arm to get his attention.

“Fuck off.” The man said and gave Carl a hard push, so he stumbled backward.

Carl could see that the woman now had her phone against her ear. So, it probably would not be long before some of his colleagues would arrive. But Carl was now getting really annoyed with the idiot.

“But I never got to tell you what my problem with Assad was!” Carl cried overdramatic to get the man’s attention. “You see, I’ve realized that the reason why I miss him so much, is because I’m in love with him. So, how am I gonna tell him that? That I’m totally lost in his big brown eyes. And that I just wish that he would whisper sweet things in my ear while he – “

“Could you just keep your fucking mouth shut!” the man yelled and lashed out after Carl, but did not hit him, because Carl moved away just in time.

However, Carl got a punch placed right in the idiot’s face. But that only seemed to provoke him even further. Which lead to that he lashed out again, and this time he did not miss. He hit Carl right on the nose. Carl could feel the blood began to flow from his nose. It hurt like hell, but he still managed to hit the man a few more times, before the man hit him so hard that he fell.

With a little difficulty, Carl got himself turned around, so he was on his stomach. But before he got a chance to get up again, he felt the first kick to his side. Which led to that he scratched his forehead against the asphalt.

“Fucking homo-cop,” the man yelled while he kicked Carl again. “If I ever see you and your little Paki-friend, then – “

But he did not get to finish his threats or kick Carl again because Carl got himself turned over to the side. So, he just kicked right into the air. Which got him so much out of balance, that Carl got time to get up, and launch himself at the guy, so they both fell to the ground.

That was how the two of them were lying on the ground, basically trying to kill each other, when two police officers came and separated them.

 

“Well, I’ll see you on Monday then.” Carl said when Assad parked outside of Carl’s house.

Carl was grateful that it was only Saturday because that meant he hopefully could get a bit better before Monday morning. At least he would have time to probably sober up again.

Carl was halfway out of the car when he heard Assad turn off the engine. Carl turned around and looked at him with a puzzled look.

“I’m coming with you, so I can take a look at your injuries. Otherwise, you’re just gonna go straight to bed.” Assad said while he opened his seatbelt.

Carl rolled his eyes, while he got out of the car. But he did not come with any complaints. Instead, he continued to hide the pain he felt in the side of his over body as good as he could, so Assad would not notice. But it got harder and harder not to react on it.

When he walked past the garbage can, he demonstratively spat the gum in it. Stupid overprotective Assad.

 

When they got inside the house, Carl went straight for the living room, he was so tired that he just wanted sit down on the couch. But when he did so, the pain in his left side worsened and he made a painful grimace and placed his hand on the side. Assad noticed it.

“Carl are you okay?” he asked, sounding worried. All signs of irritation were gone.

“Yeah, I feel great,” Carl answered through gritted teeth. “I just need to lay down for a moment.”

With a little difficulty, he got down on his back. He looked over at Assad who still looked worried.

“Do you feel bad now for scolding me like that before?” Carl asked.

Assad did not answer, he just got down on his knees next to the couch. Carl looked at him with a frown, what was he doing?

“Let me take a look at it.” He said, nodding at where Carl was holding his hand.

“What? No! It’s nothing, I’ve probably just had a bad night of sleep on that thing they call a bed down in the detention cell.”

“Carl!” said Assad firmly.

“Okay, fine!” Carl answered.

He began to unbutton his shirt and could feel how heat began to spread on his cheeks. It felt kind of weird to take off his clothes, with Assad right next to him. They were far too close to each other right now.

He sighed a bit when he unbuttoned the last button. He had not yet looked at it himself, but judging by the pain, it probably did not look too good. And knowing Assad, he probably would not take it lightly.

“Dammit, Carl.” Assad mumbled when he saw how bad it was.

Carl looked down and saw that he was black and blue on a large part of his side. That damn Neo-Nazi had really kicked him hard.

Assad carefully placed two of his fingers on the outline of the bruised skin and lightly pushed.

“Ouch! Holy shit!” Carl said when it sent a new rush of pain through his body.

“I’m sorry.” Assad quickly said and looked up at Carl. “I’m just trying to see if you’ve broken anything, okay? Or if you’ve punctured a lung, that could be really dangerous.”

Carl wanted to point out that Assad was neither a doctor nor a nurse. Just something that would get him to stop touching the sore parts of Carl’s body. But when he looked into Assad’s eyes, he could not get himself to do it. Assad was so sincerely worried for him, that all that Carl could get himself to do was nod slowly.

So, Assad got to continue his examination, while Carl stared at the ceiling and made grimaces in silence. Instead of focusing on how much it hurt, he tried to focus on the fact that Assad was touching him with so gentle fingers, even though it was only to make sure that he was not seriously injured.

“I don’t think it’s anything too serious. But maybe I should take you to the emergency room anyway, just to be sure.” Assad said. His hand was still resting just above Carl’s hip, just outside of the bruised part of his body, where it did not hurt.

“No, I’ll take your word for it.” Carl answered and looked over at Assad, who still did not make any indications of getting up. Or removing his hand.

For a moment, they just looked at each other. Then Assad removed his hand in a quick move like he just then realized what he had been doing. He got up.

“Well, I should probably get that wound that you’ve on the forehead cleaned.” Assad said and scratched the back of his neck. He seemed a bit absent.

“Uhm, yeah. There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom.” Carl said.

Assad nodded and quickly left the living room.

Carl turned his face, so he was looking at the ceiling again. In his hangover filled head, he tried to work out what had just happened. But he had difficulty reading the situation.

It took some time before Assad came back, but when he did, he had the first aid kit with him. He got down on his knees again beside the couch. When he started to clean the wound on Carl’s forehead, Carl did not say a word trough it hurt like hell.

“Carl, turn your face towards me so it’s easier for me to reach,” Assad said and put a hand on Carl’s cheek to turn his head. He frowned. “You’re very warm, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Carl answered in an, after his own opinion, neutral voice.

He was very well aware of how much his cheeks were burning, but he also knew that it had nothing to do with illness. And being face to face with Assad, with so little space between them did not make it better.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about what happened yesterday?” Assad asked as he continued to clean Carl’s wound.

“There is not much to talk about.” Carl said. He had a lump in his throat now.

He considered what to do. Should he keep telling the same lie, or should he confess and hope for the best? He hoped that he had read the situation right and that what had happened just before had not been colored by his hangover.

“I just told the idiot that I have this really good Muslim friend who is always so nice to me and takes good care of me,” Carl said.

Assad smiled a bit and closed the first aid kit when he was done cleaning Carl’s wound.

“And that I had fallen totally and hopelessly in love with him.” Carl continued.

He could feel his heart beat faster as soon as the words had left his mouth.

Assad’s eyes grew wide and he looked at Carl with surprise. Carl did not know what to do, he had hoped for a quick reaction, whatever the outcome would have been. But now it felt like the seconds was dragging out to last an eternity. He considered if he should try and take it all back. Say that he had of course only said all these things because he had been drunk.

“Assad, I – “

Carl was interrupted when Assad leaned in and kissed him. It was now Carl’s turn to get surprised, but he quickly got over it and returned the kiss. He put one of his hands on the back of Assad’s neck and pulled him closer. Assad then again let his hand glide over Carl’s hip towards his stomach. Carl sighed happily into the kiss and wished that his entire body did not hurt so damn much so he could have had pulled Assad up on the couch with him.

Then Assad broke the kiss and pulled back a little, so Carl let go of him. Again, it seemed like Assad had just now realized what he had been doing. He looked searchingly at Carl. Then he shook his head.

“You’re crazy, Carl.”

Carl frowned. He was a bit confused. “Says the man who just kissed me.”

Assad looked at him for a little while but did not answer. Then he got up and left.

“Assad?” Carl called out with a hint of panic in his voice.

What was going on?

With a bit of difficulty, Carl sat up. It hurt like hell, but he had to find out where Assad had gone. Carl counted to three in his head and then stood up. Which sent a new rush of pain through his body.

 

He found Assad in the kitchen, where he was standing with his back turned toward Carl. He had his palms firmly planted on the kitchen tabletop, as if he was afraid, he would fall if he let go.

“Assad?” Carl asked cautiously.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Carl?” Assad asked and turned around to face him.

Carl just stared at him. He was aware that he looked like shit and that he had made some questionable decisions the night before. But despite that was he not quite sure what Assad was talking about. After all, it was Assad who had kissed _him_ , so he must be returning Carl’s feelings in some sort of way.

“A lot of things. You’ve to be more specific than that.” Carl answered.

Assad looked both upset and annoyed. Which made Carl regret his kind of cheeky answer.

“I’m gone for an entire week, where you don’t contact me in any sort of way. And then you throw this at me?” Assad said.

Carl wanted to defend himself, but did not get the chance before Assad continued:

“Not to mention that I get a call from Lukas, early in the morning, telling me that he just arrested you last night. And that you apparently had said that he should just call _me_ because I would without a doubt come and pick you up.”

Carl could not really remember that he had asked Lukas to call Assad, his brain must have decided to forget that part of the night. Not that that made even less embarrassing.

He now understood what it was that Assad meant. He had not exactly acted as if Assad meant as much to him as he really did.

“Yeah, thanks for that, by the way.” Carl mumbled and looked away.

“Yeah, and that’s the worst part. That I was actually stupid enough to do it.” Assad said and looked even more annoyed, but this time probably mostly at himself. “Do you know why I took the week off, Carl?”

Carl looked at him again and shook his head. A part of him feared that Assad would say that it was because of him. A thought he had had multiple times over the last week.

“Because I never take time off from work. I never even take _one_ day off. I always meet up, every day. Because every day I tell myself: ‘Carl needs me.’ But then every day when I go home, I think to myself that I’m wrong, you don’t really need me.” Assad said and was clearly affected by the situation. “And then I realized, that _I_ am the one who can’t do without you. And that’s why I needed to take a break.”

“But I _do_ need you, I thought I had made that clear.” Carl said.

“Then why do you tell some Neo-Nazi that you’re in love with me, instead of visiting me and actually show me that you care about me?!”

Assad seemed desperate for an explanation and Carl could not really blame him. He could easily understand how his behavior must be confusing for Assad.

“I did it because I missed you.” Carl said.

Not surprisingly did that not make Assad look any less confused or annoyed.

“Then you could’ve called me.” He said.

“I was afraid that you had taken the week off because you needed a break from me. And it sounds like I wasn’t completely wrong about that.” Carl said and smiled briefly.

It looked like Assad wanted to say something, but now that Carl had started, to tell the truth, he wanted to continue, so he said:

“And I couldn’t blame you. So, I was annoyed with myself. But I also missed you. So, I went out and got drunk, because I didn’t know how else to handle it.”

The annoyance seemed to slowly disappear from Assad’s face. Carl took it as a good sign and took the chance to move a little bit closer to him.

“I miss you all the time when we’re not together. On the weekends. When I go home from work. If I was to decide, I would spend most of my time with you.” Carl shrugged a little. “But I also know that I can be a major jerk. So, the fact that you even spend so much of your time with me, as it is, seems to be more than I deserve.”

Assad still did not say anything. He just looked at Carl. But his body language was completely different now. He was no longer angry. No longer annoyed. He seemed relaxed and open. Carl stepped closer so he was inside Assad’s personal space.

“But that doesn’t mean that I don’t miss you, every time I’m alone,” Carl whispered when he was close to Assad’s face again. He put his arms around him and moved his face closer, so he could whisper in his ear: “The worst part is when I miss you at times where I’ve no right to have you. Like when I’m alone in my bed and I just wish that you were lying next to me. Or when I touch myself and wish that it was you who was touching me.”

Assad’s breathing got heavier. Carl smiled. He kissed the side of Assad’s neck.

“Every day that goes by where I don’t see you, I miss you.” Carl continued. He kissed Assad again. “Sorry that I haven’t told you sooner.”

He put his head on Assad’s shoulder and stayed like that, with his arms around Assad. Then he felt Assad put one of his arms around his waist and slowly let it slide up his back in a motion that made Carl’s entire body quiver. Assad continued till his hand was on the back of Carl’s neck. Where he began to move his thumb in soothing circles. It felt so nice that Carl felt like he could fall asleep right there on the spot.

They stood there for a moment before Carl had to move away if he did not want to actually fall asleep.

“I think I’ve to go to bed and get some sleep.” Carl said.

He hated to admit it. Because he did not want Assad to go home. Especially not now when they had shared this moment. He would rather just continue. But his entire body was screaming at him for some sleep and peace.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Assad said and nodded. “I’m actually quite tired too, I mean, I did get woken up quite early. So yeah, I could really use a nap too.”

Carl looked at him, to see if he was saying what Carl thought he was saying. His smile indicated that that was the case. That was a game Carl could play too.

“Oh, yeah, that’s true. Which is my fault, so I feel like I owe it to you to offer that you can sleep here, if you want.”

Assad nodded. “Is your couch good to sleep on?”

“Definitely. But my bed is better.”

The looked at each other with smiles that turned into laughs.

“Alright, on one condition.” Assad said.

“What?”

“You take a shower, you could really use one.” Assad said and tried not to laugh again.

Carl nodded. He could not deny that he most definitely could use a shower. The combination of his night out, the fight, and a night in the detention cell had left its toll on him.

“Fair enough. Do you want to join me there too?” he joked.

Assad looked at him for a moment, then shrugged. “Okay.”

He smiled when he saw the look of surprise on Carl’s face. Because to be honest, it was not the answer Carl had expected. But he was not going to complain.

 

It ended with that Assad stayed for the rest of the weekend. So, they went together for work Monday morning, where they were met by Rose, who seemed overly happy. As soon as she saw them, she went over to give Assad a long and tight hug.

“Assad, it’s so good to have you back!”

Carl felt a little left out. But on the other hand, he did not have the same relationship with Rose as Assad did and he had not been away for a week. But it would have been nice with a ‘good morning.’

Assad laughed a little. “You saw me last Wednesday.”

Carl got a little annoyed with himself. Rose had taken the time to visit Assad doing the last week, but Carl himself had done nothing. He would have hated himself for being such an idiot had it not been for the fact that he woken up that morning with Assad’s arm around him, had a ‘good morning’ whispered lovingly in his ear followed by gentle kisses on the back of his neck. So, he just promised himself to do better in the future.

Rose let go of Assad. “Yeah, but you still left me alone with grumpy over there for an entire week.” She nodded in Carl’s direction. Then she gave Assad a crooked smile. “If I didn’t know better would I say that he missed you.”

“Really?” Assad said sarcastically surprised and looked over at Carl. “That can’t be true.”

“Maybe I just missed that there was someone here to help me with all the work we have to do.” Carl answered.

It was mostly to annoy Rose because she had commented on the fact that he so obviously had missed Assad. If it had not been for everything that had happened that weekend would he had been very embarrassed.

As expected, Rose sent him an offended look. Since she had worked just as much the last week as she always did. She was clearly about to come up with a response when she noticed the wound on Carl’s forehead. Even though it had been a few days now, did it not look better, but worse. The bruise had become clearer.

“Holy shit, Carl.” She said. “I had heard that you had been in a fight last Friday, but I didn’t know how bad it was. Are you okay?”

Great. So, every person who worked at the station probably knew about his night out by now. Carl Mørck, drunk in a fight and a night in the detention cell. He would have to hear for it for a long time.

But at least did sound like Rose was sincerely worried for him.

“I’m fine, Rose.” He said. “It’s nothing.”

Assad looked over at him and slightly shook his head. “Carl has a rib fracture.”

Carl rolled his eyes. That was not something that he had planned on telling Rose, but Assad was worried that Carl would overwork himself. So, Assad probably wanted Rose to help keep an eye on him.

They had found out that Carl had been more injured than they had first assumed after Assad finally had convinced him to go see a doctor after they had had a longer discussion Saturday afternoon. It had been after the pain had worsened. So, again had Assad worried that he had a punctured lung. Luckily was it not that. With a rib fracture did he only has to take some painkillers and be aware that the pain probably would get more intense over the next few days, before it would begin to get better. So that was why he should preferably take it easy.

“It’s nothing serious. I’m _fine_.” Carl insisted.

“Aha,” Rose said. “So, I guess _that_ is not the reason why Assad has been sleeping at your place for the entire weekend? I wonder what other reason there could be…”

Their shocked faces made Rose cross her arms with a triumphantly smile. Like she had just solved one of their cases all on her own.

“What, uhm, what even makes you think that he has slept over at my place?” Carl asked, trying not to sound affected by her words.

But he instantly knew that he had failed completely. He had probably just exposed them even more.

Rose looked at him with raised eyebrows, like the answer was obvious.

“One,” she said and started to count on her fingers “You meet in at the exact same time. Two, you both stink of Carl’s cheap shampoo. And three, that is not Assad’s own shirt.” She pointed at Assad.

What the hell was she? Lifestyle expert or Sherlock Holmes? Sure, Carl had lent Assad some of his own clothes since he had not been back at his own place for the entire weekend. But neither of them had expected that Rose, or anybody else for that matter, would notice it.

Carl did not know what to say and judging by the complete silence that came from Assad, did it not seem like he did either.

Rose continued: “And to be honest, I’ve spent so much time with both of you over the last few years. Trust me, it was only a matter of time. Like seriously, sometimes both of you have been like little kids who don’t know how to express that you have had feelings for each other.”

Neither of the two men knew what to say. Carl had never thought that he had been so obvious. He had always tried to act like the exact opposite.

“Don’t worry,” Rose said when neither of them still had not said a word. “I’m not gonna tell anybody. I just thought you should know that you’re both quite so obvious. And we are on a police station after all, so maybe someone would put two and two together.”

Carl snorted. “I don’t think we’ve to worry about that.”

He did not have much trust in his colleagues’ investigations skills.

 “Yeah, I don’t so either, Rose,” Assad said, it finally seemed like he had recovered the power of speech too. “I mean, I don’t think anybody at the station has half as much knowledge of what clothes Carl or I have, as it seems that you have.”

“But impressive deduction, Rose.” Carl said with a brief smile.

There seemed to be no reason to hide the truth from her, that had never been their plan anyway. They had just not expected her to figure it out on her own so fast.

Rose beamed at him. “Aw, it’s so cute. I’m so happy for you guys.”

She pulled them both in for a hug, with herself in the middle and put her heard on their shoulders. Carl bit his lip, so he did not say a word when his sore body was pressed against Rose’s.

“Thanks, Rose,” Assad said. “But I think you’re hurting Carl.”

“Oh, sorry!” Rose said quickly and let go of them both.

“It’s fine.” Carl said through gritted teeth.

He knew that Rose only meant it well and he really appreciated her happiness on their behalf. Then he felt Assad put a hand on his lower back, where he made some soothing movements.

“What about you sit down and relax a little?” Assad said in a soft voice.

He nodded but did not move a muscle, because he did not want Assad to let go of him. From the corner of his eye could he see Rose’s smile grew bigger. He gave her a look.

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave you two alone now.” She said and tried not to laugh, while she walked back to her own office. She even closed the door, something she otherwise only did when she and Carl had been arguing.

Carl shook his head a little while he finally walked over and set down at his desk. That hurt too, but he had become quite good at hiding his pain.

“She means well.” Assad said when he sat down at his own desk.

“I know.” He looked over at Assad and smiled.

Assad returned the smile with a frown. “What?”

“It’s nice to have you back.” He said with the utmost sincerity and a new kind of peace of mind.

Assad’s smile grew bigger. “Next time we’ll take some time off together.”

Carl nodded. He was already looking forward to it.

**Author's Note:**

> Tak for at læse med :)


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